


A Man With No Center

by darth_healer



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Smut, Madasaku - Freeform, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-09 08:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17998484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darth_healer/pseuds/darth_healer
Summary: Sakura doesn't belong to anyone, no matter what price they can pay. Even Madara Uchiha's offer to fund her incredibly expensive research doesn't give him the right to own her.But Madara Uchiha is the kind of man who always gets what he wants and there is no price he won't pay.





	1. Chapter 1

Sakura tugged at the collar of her blouse, stifled by the starch and the wool blazer on top of it. She much preferred her sheath dresses with her doctor’s coat over top, but tonight she needed to look a little more professional than that. The annual founder’s banquet was being held, and though she didn’t usually attend (seeing as she was not a member of any founding family), Sakura found herself perched on the steps of the Uchiha Manor.

She was herded through the doors with a group of other immaculately dressed guests – some she recognized, some she didn’t. She knew the ones her own age – the ones she had gone to school with. Sasuke, her former teenage crush was there, of course. This was his home after all. The Uchiha family was as prestigious as they come, and Sakura understood that this was part of Sasuke’s appeal to her. Still, she couldn’t help but stare a little longingly when she caught sight of his moony face from across the room.

Quickly, she looked away before those old feelings rushed back. Instead she settled her gaze on Shino, who she remembered only fuzzily. He had been quiet back in grade school, even more so once they’d gotten older. In all his reservation, Sakura never sought a deeper friendship with him and felt no compulsion to speak with him now.

He was speaking quietly with Neji, who was Sakura’s true target today. Neji’s family had money, and Sakura needed money. Dr. Haruno needed money, rather. Her genetic research, while wildly popular, was expensive. The Konoha Times had covered a study of hers on the genetic variations in the founding clans of Konoha and why their eye colors were so pure and striking – particularly the Hyuugas.

The coverage made her a bit of a celebrity in the town, as did her reputation as one of the best doctors in the area. It was well known that she worked directly under Dr. Tsunade Senju of the Senju family, who was of course attending the banquet as well.

In fact, tonight was a strategic move on Tsunade’s part. She had invited Sakura to tag along to tonight’s banquet as her plus one so that she could try to convince one of the other families to fund their genetic research. The town of Konoha was rife with what both Sakura and Tsunade agreed were genetic conditions that had yet to be studied by any medical professional. Tsunade suspected whatever these conditions were must be somehow rooted in Konoha’s genealogy.

Sakura wasn’t sure what to think, but she couldn’t help but notice some of the stranger ‘symptoms’ amongst the different families. The Hyuugas with their strange and milky eyes often had bouts of unexplained tunnel vision. The Naras were all plagued by some sort of jaundice that cast a shadowed look to their skin that was unsettling at first when you couldn’t quite pinpoint what was wrong. The Uchihas often had inexplicable rages and migraines for no discernable medical reason.

For all of these reasons, both Sakura and Tsunade thought investing in genetic research would be a lifesaver in the near future when these conditions, unmanaged as they were, became a real problem. Something needed to be done before then, and with Konoha fully supporting Dr. Sakura Haruno and her intriguing eye color study, that might just be possible.

They just needed a little money.

Sakura eyed Neji from the other side of the grand foyer. He was illuminated by the glittering chandeliers above and the way the light danced off the filigree of the fine gold paper that lined the walls surrounding them. Even with her impressive doctor’s wages, she couldn’t help but gape at the opulence of it all – the thick velvet drapes of maroon, the sparkling black marble floors. It reeked of excess, Sakura thought with a wrinkle of her nose, but the taste was impeccable.

Neji’s long hair was tied at the nape of his neck, and Sakura could see as she approached him that he was as warm as she was. Wisps of his damp hair clung to his neck. She stared for a moment at the paleness of his skin and the way the light refracted off the sheen of sweat on his neck. He turned to face her.

“Dr. Haruno,” he said softly, his unnerving milky gaze sharp on her before it flicked to Sasuke on the other side of the room.

Sakura’s childhood crush on Sasuke was a well-known fact, but that had been many years ago and it annoyed her that people couldn’t seem to let it go. Neji of all people should have understood. She had been flirting with him for weeks, after all. His family ran many of Konoha’s newspapers, including the Times, which had just published an article about her study.

Neji hadn’t worked directly on the project, but she had seen him many times during the process, and she had hoped that in all the flirtatious glances and sly smiles she had given him, he would have realized that she had moved on. That she wanted someone else now.

Sort of. Neji’s family had the money for her research, and he was handsome enough. There was no reason not to like him, right? Sakura couldn’t quite assuage her guilt. Her gold digging, no matter how noble its motivation, was a miserable sin to commit. She was better than that. She could love Neji, if he were open to it. She didn’t have much to lose, did she?

“Call me Sakura,” she insisted, her voice low. Shino cleared his throat and Sakura nodded politely to him.

“Sakura,” Neji said, sounding a little unsure of himself. “Are you Sasuke’s plus one?”

She quickly shook her head. “It’s been years since I’ve spoken—” she cut herself off. There was no need to explain herself. “I came with Dr. Senju.”

Neji’s gaze flicked to Tsunade. She felt ice in his stance, but she didn’t know why.

“She’s a little old for you, don’t you think?”

Sakura paled and swallowed. A waiter brushed past them with a tray of champagne flutes. Sakura snagged one and sipped to wet her parched mouth. Rumors of an inappropriate relationship between Sakura and her attending doctor weren’t unheard of, but no one had ever spoken about it so frankly to Sakura before.

“We don’t have that kind of relationship,” she said pointedly, the timbre of her voice dropped even lower. A slow disdain for Neji whipped across her skull like a sharp wind.

“Forgive me,” he said, though it didn’t sound much like he cared if he was forgiven or not.

Irritated, Sakura crossed her arms and looked away. She no longer felt like flirting with him, though she still needed an investor and Neji was still the prime candidate.

“Excuse me,” she said to both Shino and Neji, ducking her head with flippant apology. She moved away from them quickly, hoping that time apart from Neji would bolster her waning interest in him. 

She turned, downing the rest of her champagne. As she lowered the empty flute, her gaze caught on a pair of red eyes watching her from the top of the stairs.

No guests had ventured up the stairs – it wasn’t polite to wander through someone else’s home. He stood alone up there, dressed in a sharp navy suit and silky black tie. Sakura should have felt embarrassed to have caught his gaze like that, but she was unable to tear her eyes away.

Madara Uchiha. She recognized him easily and was intimidated by his attention. Why was the patriarch of the Uchiha family looking at her? The Uchiha family owned nearly all of the textile factories and farmland around Konoha. They employed nearly everyone in the town, making them easily the richest and most powerful family. It was tacitly understood that The Uchiha family was more than a little corrupt, and Sakura wasn’t exactly sure what that entailed.

It had been one reason she ultimately let go of her girlhood crush on bad boy Sasuke.

But she couldn’t let go of Madara’s gaze. It rooted her in place and left her feeling cold from the tips of her ears to her toes. There was something about the stern set of his mouth that made her feel patronized, and the disapproval, both unwarranted and undeserved, made her frown.

Ripping her gaze away, she headed for Tsunade, who stood near the bar, of course. She tossed back an ounce of whiskey as Sakura neared her.

“Neji is getting on my nerves,” Sakura seethed.

Tsunade rolled her eyes. “I hate to break it to you,” she said as she gestured for the bartender to give her another whiskey, “but all of them are going to get on your nerves. At least Neji is somewhat tolerable.”

Sakura wanted more than tolerable, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“He thinks you and I are an item,” Sakura said dryly, glancing out to the crowd of people that had begun to mingle near the staircase. Madara was descending now, his face a well-practiced and warm smile. He greeted the crowd at the bottom of the stairs.

“He wishes,” Tsunade murmured. “This whole town is filled with perverts and morons.”

As if on cue, Jiraiya ambled into view. For once he was dressed nicely in a tailored suit and his usually unkempt hair had been pulled back into a neat ponytail. Though he didn’t belong to any of the founding families, his closeness with the Uchiha family often allowed him to attend events like these even when he wasn’t invited.

“What are you doing here?” Tsunade asked dryly and he approached with a wicked grin.

“I came to see if my two favorite girls needed some company,” he teased, winking at Sakura as he moved to Tsunade’s side.

Tsunade gave Sakura a knowing look. Discreetly, Sakura moved away from them. Tsunade was embarrassed by her sordid trysts with Jiraiya, and Sakura didn’t blame her. The man was a pervert.

Irritated afresh, Sakura shrunk back against the wall. Her plans foiled, she felt desperately alone. Social functions like this weren’t her scene. She wanted nothing more than pizza and a soft blanket and a good novel.

It was too early to leave, too early to admit defeat. She should try Neji again, but she needed more time to recuperate from him.

She slunk along the perimeter of the party, her eyes scanning for another tray of champagne flutes. She caught one and sipped, already feeling the dizzying effects of the bubbles and the warmth the alcohol spread through her bones.

With her wits still mostly in tact, she remained a wallflower, sipping champagne and watching the banquet unfold before her. It was truly a splendid party in a gorgeous home. She was lucky to be able to attend such a party when she had no real merits to, no pedigree like the rest of these meatsacks.

Sakura almost felt contempt for these families and how they poised themselves above everyone else in Konoha. If she didn’t know many of them personally, she might have.

“Dr. Haruno.”

At the sound of her name, Sakura turned. The rich timbre belonged to a man nearly twice her size, and as she craned her neck to look up at his face, realization dawned on her.

Dryness found her throat again, stealing whatever words she might have conjured.

“I don’t recall inviting you,” he said, though he didn’t sound unfriendly. “Tell me who you belong to.”

She blinked at him, remembering his cold gaze from before. Did he not want her here?

“I-I’m Tsunade’s plus one,” she stammered, her gaze flitting around his broad chest, searching for a familiar face to rescue her. She only spotted Sasuke, still on the other side of the room, though through some miraculous twist of fate, he chose that moment to look up from his conversation with Neji (of all people) and meet her gaze.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Confused, Sakura brought her gaze back to Madara’s face. He was looming over her now, and it sort of frightened her.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she said, hating her meekness. She was a doctor, and a damn good one. She straightened her spine, but it didn’t make her feel any more confident.

“No?” Madara asked. “So you must not belong to anyone, then.”

“Of course not,” she breathed. No one could own her.

A predatory grin unfurled on Madara’s face. The sight of it sent a wash of coldness down her spine.

“Pardon me,” he said, his voice the epitome of etiquette and grace. “I’ve been very rude. I’m Madara Uchiha. Welcome to my home, darling. I hope you enjoy the party.”

///

Disturbed by the encounter with Madara, Sakura was sufficiently purged of her irritation with Neji. Trying to shake thoughts of Madara’s red eyes from her mind, she squared her shoulders and found Neji near the staircase.

“Dr. Haruno,” he said again as she approached. Another flute of champagne had found its way to her hand. By now she had lost count of how many she’d consumed, but she knew that there was plenty of alcohol to warm her blood and calm her nerves.

“Neji,” she said boldly. “Please, call me Sakura.”

She fluttered her lashes and looked down at his mouth. They had known each other for so long. Why did this feel so awkward?

“Something in your eye?” he asked her.

A stab of annoyance cut through the blurring effects of the alcohol. Ignoring it, she lifted her hand to cup his bicep.

“No, silly,” she said, but the words didn’t have the charm she’d intended.

Then, a hand gripped her elbow from behind. Before she could turn to face whoever was accosting her, a warm and solid presence was against her back.

“Dr. Haruno,” said a hauntingly familiar voice, which rumbled deeply in the chest that was pressed against her back. “I think Mr. Hyuuga might be right.”

Firm hands gripped her arms and turned her around to face him. Too inebriated to do much other than blink, she stared at him. He peered into her eyes, and it was then that she was struck by just how handsome he actually was. Though he was old enough to be her father (maybe even grandfather), there was a youthful and boyish charm in the crinkle of his eyes that made Sakura nearly swoon.

Fortunately, he was physically holding her upright. “No,” he said with a gentle shake of his head. “I don’t see anything those stunning eyes of yours except for maybe a little disdain. Not for me, I hope.”

She blinked again, and pulled her arms from his grasp.

“For Neji,” she almost said, but stopped herself just in time. She didn’t dislike Neji. But she could concede that by now she was only after his money.

“Not for you,” she said instead, still a little unnerved that Madara Uchiha was deigning her worthy of his attention.

“Good,” he said, and without any further explanation, he began to drag her up the stairs.

///

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded, sobering up while he dragged her by the elbow. Her voice was kept low – the crowd of people at the base of the stairs could still hear.

She felt a tight rage coiling inside her. Who did he think he was that he could just drag her around as if she were nothing more than a doll for him to play with?

“I’ve decided that you belong to me now, Dr. Haruno,” he said without glancing back at her. His fingers were hot where they curled around her arm. “I’m going to show you why.”

Against all her better instincts, Sakura was curious.

///

“Do not flirt with Neji again.”

The command was uttered with such authority that Sakura couldn’t help but readily agree. Her head bobbed with an affirmative nod before she could remember that she needed to flirt with Neji.

“Good,” Madara said, pleased by her acquiescence. “You’re very bad at flirting, but even so Neji does not deserve your attention.”

“Doesn’t he?” she asked in surprise. She was the gold digger. He was supposed to be the victim.

Madara sighed, and it was then that Sakura noticed she had been brought to a study – his, she presumed. It was minimalistic, but expensively so, and it smelled strongly of bourbon and vanilla. He stood in front of his desk, his ass braced against it, arms crossed over his chest.

“Of course he doesn’t,” Madara insisted.

“And you do?” she asked dryly, brash even as she was sobering up.

“Yes, Dr. Haruno,” he said impishly. “Because I have eyes and ears everywhere and I know the true reason you chose to flirt with Neji tonight and it has nothing to do with any attraction toward him.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, repulsed by the idea that he might have been spying on her or Tsunade.

“Is that so?” she asked, tapping her toe. She watched as his amused gaze traveled from her face down the length of her body to her black pumps.

“Did you think you could seduce him with those mediocre flirting skills?” he teased. There was a seriousness in his tone, but she wanted to laugh when the velvety rich sound of his chuckle washed over her.

“It’s not like that,” she insisted. “Neji and I, we could be something.”

Madara shook his head with a condescending cluck. “I don’t think so, dear,” he said, reaching for her. Sakura hesitantly allowed him to tug her closer by the lapel of her blazer. Standing inches away from one another, she could feel the heat from his chest.

He tilted his head and watched her while she grappled for something to say. She felt disrespected for having been brought here and for his accusations and the way he had touched her. Still, as before when she had first seen him, she was captured by his gaze, frozen.

“Kiss me,” he said. “I could tell from looking at you across the room that your kisses are worth a million dollars apiece.”

As if spelled into obedience, Sakura stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her closed lips to his. An illicit chill ran through her. This man was dangerous, old enough to be her father, one of Sasuke’s family members. Kissing him was like kissing a grinning shark.

“Maybe half a million,” he said when she pulled away.

She gripped his lapel and pulled him quickly into another kiss. This time she was eager to please. Her lips parted, her tongue prodded, and then she was swept away by a current of warmth and arousal led by the callous way his hands found their way to her ass and squeezed, and the probing exploration of his tongue.

It was too much for her to stand, but Madara held her up by her ass, lifting her so she could straddle his waist.

“Ten million,” he bartered when she pulled away from him, gasping. Her skin felt electric; her heart pounded in her chest where it was pressed against his. She had never kissed anyone like this before, never even dreamed of it.

“Yes,” she agreed, the word pouring into his mouth as she captured his lips with hers again. She delighted when he hummed appreciatively into the kiss. “Another ten million for that one. Twenty million and five hundred thousand dollars. When can I expect my payment, Mr. Uchiha?”

With no warning, he dropped her to her feet, spun her around, and forced her to bend over his desk. Sakura gasped when she felt his hard erection against her ass, and hissed when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and not so gently tugged until she was looking at him.

Part of her was furious at being manhandled in such a way. Another darker and more sensual part of her was thrilled.

“Sakura,” he murmured softly – a sharp juxtaposition against the rough way his fingers had tightened into her scalp. “May I call you Sakura?”

Her eyes met his, hers glistening with smarting tears. She could refuse the request. He seemed to earnestly be awaiting her answer.

Madara Uchiha was a man with money and power. He was more capable than Neji was of funding her research. Not only that, but he was gloriously primal – an image of pure masculinity standing over her like this. His dark hair fell in thick waves around his shoulders, his pale skin seemed to glow tautly over the rough scrape of his jaw.

Sakura could suddenly think of nothing but what it might feel like to press that face to the now throbbing place between her legs. The sordid thought brought fire to her cheeks, which seemed to amuse her captor. He pressed his erection tighter against her – she could feel its impressive hardness straining against both his pants and hers.

“Call me whatever you want,” she said, her words catching on the arousal that was quickly dousing her entire body.

Abruptly, he pulled her upright, holding her back tightly against his chest. His hand came to her throat, gentle and tender where his calloused fingers brushed her chin and turned her face to look at him.

He was damn near hypnotic this close. Dark, curly lashes framed the most lurid and captivating eyes she had ever seen – even Sasuke’s, so similar but with none of the flame and mischief she was drowning in now. She was caught in his vice grip, but instead of moving away, she was magnetically drawn to his mouth, those sexy, smirking lips that needed to be kissed right now.

“Sakura,” he said, rolling the syllables over his tongue. His eyes darted around her face, curious as they appreciatively drank her in. “I saw your picture in the paper.” He released his grip on her chin, but held her against his chest with an arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She could still feel his dangerously growing erection. “The moment I saw you I felt that I’d been done a great injustice by not having been included in your study.”

The hammer of her heart began to thud harder. “I didn’t mean to insult you, Mr. Uchiha—”

“Sakura, darling, please call me Madara.” For emphasis, he pressed his erection harder against her.

She muffled her flustered and aroused groan and cleared her throat. “I didn’t think that the head of the Uchiha family would be able to make time for something so trivial,” she explained, but the truth was that she had avoided the Uchiha family save for Mikoto, whom she trusted with her life, and Izumi, who was about as non-threatening as an Uchiha could be.

“If I had known how striking your eyes were, you would have been my prime candidate for the study,” she added, sensing that her answer was unsatisfactory to him when he frowned at her.

His gaze met hers. Something intense and inexplicable was in his eyes. The heat of it terrified her, but then he stepped away from her. Instinctively, she backed up, inviting him to bring back the warmth of his body. The crotch of her suit was damp now, and the throb between her legs stole most of the attention she should have been giving to getting some money out of him.

Another amused chuckle settled around her like a soft blanket. “Sit, Sakura,” he said, gesturing to the leather cushioned chair opposite his desk. It was less of a chair and more of a sofa, large enough for four of her to sit on. She slunk down into the chair, watching raptly as he crossed to the other side of the desk and sat down.

He reached into one of the lower drawers in his desk and pulled out a rather expensive looking bottle of bourbon. He pulled the glass stopper from the bottle and took a swig directly from its mouth.

“Would you like some?” he asked, holding the bottle out for her.

She stared hesitantly for a moment. The effects of the champagne were starting to go away. She should be sober for this. She was obviously in danger, though what kind she didn’t know.

But a sinister voice in her head told her to reach for the bottle anyway. She took a sip, pressing her lips to the glass where Madara’s had just been. She swallowed, wincing as heat whorled down into her stomach.

“Why do you need money, Sakura?” Madara asked as he placed the stopper back in the bottle and stored it back in its place.

Caught off guard by the question, she blinked. Honesty was the only answer, though she hated to come clean and admit that she was here solely for gold digging purposes.

“To fund my genetic research with Dr. Senju,” she explained.

“More eye color studies?” he quipped, his tone teasing in spite of the serious nature of her work.

“No,” she said with a scowl. “I think the incestuous way the founding families kept their bloodlines pure for generations led to an increased number of genetic diseases that’s now concentrated in Konoha.”

Madara now seemed caught off guard. His red and horrifying eyes widened at the implication, blazing furiously. Sakura shrunk back in the chair, intimidated by his sharp gaze.

“I think it’s important that we get a leg up on that research now,” she continued, knowing that she was unequivocally right here, even if it was nerve-wracking to speak to him like this. “We don’t want to wait until these diseases reach an untreatable stage.”

Madara’s mouth, which had fallen open for a few brief seconds to marvel at Sakura’s words, closed. He swallowed, his gaze traveling from her face down to what he could see of her body. Silence stretched between them. Sakura relaxed against the leather, feeling warm and content from the bourbon.

“What a sweet girl you are,” he finally said. “How benevolent of you to pursue such research.”

“I’m not a girl,” she insisted. She was Dr. Sakura Haruno.

“You are my girl now,” he said firmly. “You were my girl the moment you stepped into my house.”

He stood and crossed back to her side of the desk. He sat down beside her; she shifted to accommodate him. The hard mass of his thigh pressed against her much smaller one.

“That’s not true,” she said. 

He nodded and reached for a lock of her hair, twisting it between his fingers with curiosity. “It is true,” he argued. “You came here looking for money, and you came to the right place. You are mine now, so I will give you whatever amount you need for your research.”

Sakura scooted away from him, trying to put distance between them. His body intoxicated her far more than the bourbon did.

“That sounds really close to prostitution,” she said, a little unsure of herself now.

He laughed, not a chuckle this time but the real rich and luxurious thing. How could a laugh sound like chocolate and velvet and fire?

“Sakura, baby, you came here to whore yourself out to Neji for a check,” he said. “I think I’m offering you something far more satisfactory.”

“It’s not like that,” she said. He was inching closer to her, but she couldn’t feel enough contempt for him to move away. His warm breath fanned over her neck and an alluring, teasing smile played at his lips. “Neji and I—”

“You and Neji are nothing,” he snapped, irritation whipping onto his face like it had been slapped there. “You and I…” he said, taking one of her hands in his. “We could be something. I knew as soon as I saw you.”

She shuddered as his thumb brushed across the back of her hand. He flipped it over, brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to her palm.

“Stop saying that,” she said, though she didn’t retract her hand. “What does that even mean?”

He smiled, leaning closer to her. His nose brushed along her cheek and he inhaled, huffing the scent of her like it was a fragrant bloom.

“Have you ever imagined yourself a wildly spinning planet, hurling through space, desperately seeking something to orbit?”

Sakura shook her head. The alcohol made his words sound warbled, but the sharp smell of his cologne grounded her, though it also beckoned her closer to the warmth of his broad chest.

“I think I’d like to orbit you,” he said, sounding rather amused with himself. His finger found her cheek and traced a line down to her neck. Sakura’s breath hitched in her throat and she leaned into his touch.

Madara lowered his face until his mouth was inches from hers. “I think I could get easily sucked in by your gravity.”

She didn’t know whether or not to be offended. Her brain diluted her thoughts while she tried to work out if there was an innuendo in there. Dizzied by his presence and the bourbon, she reached for his chest, hooking her fingers into his lapel.

“Looks like you’re getting sucked into mine,” he teased.

“Madara,” she said, bracing her hand against his chest. “Do you want to fuck me?” she asked. The bourbon made her courageous. “Is that what I have to do to get the money?”

Deftly, he scooped up one of her thighs and pulled her onto his lap. Sakura was too drunk to do anything but acquiesce, and found herself perched atop his lap. Against her better judgment, she found his lap to be the most pleasurable and comforting place she had ever been.

Her dark-haired suitor seemed to agree. He hummed with pleasure and leaned forward to press a kiss in the hollow of her throat.

“The money is already yours, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers curling into her hips. “I don’t want to be your sugar daddy. Though I don’t hate the idea of you calling me daddy.”

A hot blush burned her cheeks. She gripped his broad shoulders for balance, marveling at the dense muscle beneath his blazer. Curious and blitzed, she tugged on his lapel until he obligingly slid himself free from the jacket. In just a fitted white shirt, he was an entirely different animal. He was so warm, so hard, his pink nipples distended and visible through the thin fabric.

“You’d fuck me even if I didn’t give you a penny,” Madara mused, a grin plastered on his face. Madara was a man who made many public appearances, but Sakura couldn’t recall a single time she had ever seen him smile like that before. His pragmatic and domestic smiles had their own charm, but this expression was something else, something bright and explosive and just for Sakura.

“Yes,” she agreed. She didn’t consider herself loose in any sense of the word, but she knew that her body was undeniably craving something that he could easily give her. It wouldn’t have been like this with Neji. Madara had been right all along.

“Exhibit A,” he said, fingering her lapel now. He glanced up at her face in askance and then tugged her free from her jacket. “You belong to me because you want to,” he explained. “Because you know I will take care of you.”

She gave him a look of incredulous disbelief. She was a doctor. That she needed taking care of was more laughable than the fact that she had somehow ended up on Madara Uchiha’s lap when she should have been down at the banquet with everyone else. Was Tsunade wondering where she was?

“You don’t believe me,” he said with a frown.

“I don’t need taking care of,” she insisted firmly.

He smirked, trailing his fingers softly down her spine over the fabric of her thin white blouse. “Everyone needs taking care of,” he said as she shuddered under his touch. Fingers skittered around her waist and up to her breasts. He cupped her breasts, his eyes still locked onto hers. Sakura inhaled, arching into his touch.

“Even an intelligent and accomplished woman like you.”

This was exactly the kind of thing to make her swoon, and she suspected Madara knew this well. If he was manipulating her, he was so damn good at it that Sakura didn’t even care.

“How would you take care of me?” she demanded, wriggling atop his lap. He only seemed amused with her antics. He let go of her and folded his hands behind his head.

“I would start by making you cum harder than you ever have in your entire life,” he explained casually, though Sakura’s face felt like she’d been left out in the sun too long. “And then for good measure I’d make you cum about ten more times. I wouldn’t stop until this wrinkle here disappears.”

He pressed this tip of his finger between her brows. Indignant, Sakura shoved his hand away.

“Is that what it means to belong to you?” she hissed. “I just cum all the time?”

That enchanting grin lit up his face again as he nodded. Sakura was once again struck by the boyishness of his smile. “Doesn’t that sound lovely?” he asked, cupping her cheek and brushing his thumb over her lips. “You smart, beautiful little creature. Why did it take so long for us to cross paths?”

His words confused her. “What do you mean?”

“I saw your pretty face in the paper months ago,” he said, his gaze dreamy as he stroked her hair with one hand and her lips with the other thumb. “I found the subject of your study rather boring, but I see now that it was a tactic to garner interest in your genetic research. You cunning girl.”

Heartbeats thudded against her ribcage. No one had spoken to her like this before, and she was beginning to grow drunk off his honeyed words.

“You’re the kind of girl who can conquer the world, aren’t you?” he asked. She felt warm all over. His hands smoothed over her face and came down to cup her neck. They felt warm and calloused and strong against her sensitive skin.

“I’m not a girl,” she argued, pouting like a little girl in her inebriation.

“You are,” he reassured her, the words a caress, as if she had been worried by her lack of girlhood. “You’re my girl.”

“Mr. Uchiha—”

He silenced her with a kiss, a groan of irritation rumbling low in his chest. “Don’t call me that, baby girl,” he growled against her lips. “Say my name.”

“Madara,” she said obediently, trembling now that his lips had found hers again. If she were sober she could never stand these aching ministrations. Even now she felt a glorious and pleading pressure between her legs. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

Their lips still brushed against each other, though they had both paused to catch their breath. Sakura felt entirely too warm in her suit pants and blouse, and she could see Madara’s dress shirt sticking to his skin where his chest had been pressed against hers.

“I want nothing more than to make you cum right now, darling,” he said, ever smooth, his voice lilting and dripping with charm. “Unfortunately I have a houseful of guests at the moment. As much as it would thrill me for them to hear your wanton shrieking, I doubt the families would be too pleased with it.”

“You could gag me,” she suggested, the thought burbling up from a dark recess of her mind that she hadn’t even realized existed until now.

It must have been exactly what he wanted to hear, because the waning erection beneath her crotch began to harden again.

“Get up,” he instructed, smacking her lightly on the ass.

Obediently, Sakura stood, her brows furrowed while she awaited further instruction. Had she done something wrong?

“Put your blazer on and go back to the party,” he said. “Mingle and enjoy yourself. Once the guests start to leave I want you to come back to this room. Lock the door behind you. I’m the only one with a key.” He stood up and helped her adjust the lapel of her blazer. “I want you to be naked when I return. Do you understand?”

Heat curled up in her stomach, gushing through her veins. She never imagined she’d be aroused by being spoken to this way, but she was eager to please him and filled with desire. “I understand,” she murmured, desperately wishing to lean up on her toes and kiss him but lacking the confidence to do it.

“Good girl,” he said, and her clit was aching between her legs. “Go.” He swatted her ass again. She crossed her arms tightly over her tender breasts and made her way to the door.

“Don’t speak to Neji again,” he called to her just as she was shutting the door.

“I won’t.”


	2. Chapter 2

No one had missed her at the party, not even Tsunade. Sakura did a quick scan of the guests’ faces and was unable to spot her mentoring doctor. She must have still been off with Jiraiya, which was fine with Sakura. She needed a minute to recuperate from being on Madara Uchiha’s fine ass lap.

Their whole encounter left her feeling sexually charged, nervous, and warm.

Deciding that fresh air would do her some good, Sakura followed the crowd of guests until she had reached the magnificent Uchiha backyard. Its size was impressive enough on its own – Sakura couldn’t even see the perimeter. The gardens, though, were what took her breath away.

Rows and rows of rose bushes wove intricate patterns along filigreed marble walkways. Stone chairs dotted the path, surrounded by colorful springtime blooms and flanked by peach trees. At the center of it all was a white gazebo, caged in by ivy-laced lattices and trellises of climbing tomatoes.

Enticed by the elegant solitude of it, Sakura ambled down the path, her heels clicking against the marble.

It wasn’t until she approached the steps that she saw Sasuke sitting inside. He was alone on the gazebo’s sole bench, his elbows perched on his spread knees. His head was lowered, but he glanced up through his lashes as he heard Sakura’s approach.

“Sorry,” she murmured, turning back toward the house. “I didn’t realize you were in here.” Meeting him like this would ordinarily have unnerved her to no end. After her encounter with Madara, she couldn’t care less.

“Wait,” he said, and ever obedient to her Uchiha masters, Sakura halted and hated herself for it. Sasuke had brushed her aside enough times that it stung her even to this day in spite of the fact that she hadn’t spoken to him since they were teenagers. To hear him speak to her now froze her in place just as much as Madara’s chilling gaze had.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, taking in the clean way his suit fit. He didn’t fill his out as nicely as Madara did, nor were his red eyes anywhere near as fiendishly intense.

“I saw you talking to my uncle earlier,” he said. “What did he want?”

To make me cum harder than I ever have in my life, Sakura thought to herself with amusement.

“Just to introduce himself.”

Sasuke’s eyes were sharp on her, and then his gaze drifted lower, sweeping her body in a critical, harsh way. Self-conscious, she squared her shoulders to him, hoping her clothes weren’t completely disheveled from her time with Madara.

“He’s dangerous, you know,” Sasuke warned.

Sakura suspected as much, but didn’t quite understand. “Dangerous how?”

Sasuke stood up and descended the gazebo steps. He came close to her, sizing her up with a judgmental gaze.

“He’s the kind of man who always gets what he wants,” Sasuke explained.

That sounded an awful lot like someone else she knew. She could recall Sasuke’s reputation as spoiled all throughout their school years. His name alone got him most of the things he wanted, and what that didn’t get his good looks would catch for him.

“Is that a bad thing?” she asked, eyebrow cocked.

“Depends on what he wants.”

Sakura frowned. Madara’s true motive was still unclear to her, but now that he had riled her up, she expected him to make her cum. It would be cruel not to.

And also she still wanted that money.

“Well, I’ll be careful then,” she said, her voice measured, her nod polite and final. She turned to leave again, but felt his fingers curl around her elbow.

“Stay for a minute,” he said. “I could use some company.”

Shocked by the request, Sakura’s lips parted. She caught Sasuke’s gaze dip down to them, and she suddenly wondered if coming to this party had been a terrible idea.

“Mine?” she asked, incredulous.

“Anyone who isn’t in my family,” he replied dryly.

Curious, she slipped her arm around his and allowed him to lead her up the gazebo steps. Together they sat down on the stone bench, their legs close but not touching. It felt strange to be near him after all these years. She thought that being close to him would have made her nervous. There was an undeniable chasm between them, but right now it felt like they had been close friends for years.

They were silent in each other’s company, and Sakura didn’t find this confusing at all. Sasuke was a stoic man, and this was enough companionship for him. It was enough for Sakura as well, who could think of nothing but Madara’s lips on hers. Where was he now?

From their seat in the gazebo, they were able to see the back porch and the throng of people sipping champagne and loitering in the gardens. Somewhere inside the house a string quartet began to play. Sakura watched the guests mingle with each other, wondering who might have approached her to dance if she hadn’t secluded herself up here in the gazebo.

“You should have worn a dress tonight.”

With a slow blink, Sakura glanced at Sasuke. “Pardon me?”

“The suit looks fine and professional or whatever, but you would have looked much better in a gown,” he replied. “Something red and tight.”

His words pulled something taut inside her that she was afraid might snap. She was irritated to realize that he was right. Any seducing she planned to do would have been much better met if she had donned something tight and sexy like Sasuke suggested.

But she was a doctor with a reputation to uphold. She wasn’t here because she needed a husband, just a tidy sum of money.

She stood up, finished with Sasuke’s company now. Whatever solace he’d found in her must have been accomplished already if he had deigned it appropriate to comment on her appearance tonight.

“Where are you going?” he asked, not unkindly.

“Back to the party.”

She descended the gazebo steps and was unsurprised to sense Sasuke’s presence behind her. He followed her back through the garden and into the house. His hand found the small of her back and he pushed her through the crowd until they’d reached the bar. There he lifted her a flute of champagne and took a glass of whiskey for himself.

“Who did you come here with, Sakura?” he asked her.

They both leaned against a vacant spot at the bar while Sakura surveyed the room. A few guests had already started leaving, but most were still present and pleasantly drunk. Sakura spotted Tsunade and Jiraiya on the other side of the room, swaying to the string quartet’s performance.

“I was Tsunade’s plus one,” she answered, nodding in her mentor’s direction. “As you can see, I was quickly replaced.”

Sasuke’s eyes flicked to hers, disgust clear on his face. She knew he didn’t care for Jiraiya, though he was a close personal friend of Itachi’s.

“Why come at all, then?” he pressed. “This isn’t really your scene.”

It shouldn’t have offended her, but it did. This could be her scene, couldn’t it? She could fit into all this opulence somehow. But she couldn’t very well insist that to Sasuke and then explain to him that she had come here to seduce a large amount of money from someone.

And she certainly couldn’t explain to him that that someone was potentially his very dangerous uncle.

Saving her from having to answer, Neji walked up to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. He glanced at Sakura and then Sasuke, confusion written all over his features.  
“Hi,” he said to them, sounding uncertain.

“Hi,” Sasuke replied, and Sakura couldn’t help but sneak a glance at his face. Had he seen her flirting with Neji earlier?

Remembering Madara’s instruction, and not caring that it was incredibly rude, Sakura kicked herself away from the bar and briskly walked away from Neji. She didn’t look back toward them, nor did she hear them call after her. She allowed herself to be swept away by the current of the crowd and soon found herself standing near a beautifully arranged table of desserts.

Sakura didn’t consider herself to have much of a sweet tooth, but even she was enticed by the assorted confections with their bright frostings and sugary garnishes. The scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and nutmeg filled the air, and as Sakura neared the table, berries, citrus, and mango.

Easily seduced by the tray of fruits, she reached for a chocolate covered strawberry. She chose the plumpest one, lifting it gently by the stem. A gasp escaped her when she felt large, rough fingers cover hers and pull the strawberry from her grasp.

A solid presence was at her back, and she didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Please,” he murmured in her ear and then turned her around to face him. “Let me.”  
He lifted the strawberry to her lips, and she opened her mouth to bite it. Her lips closed around his finger. Delighted by the shudder she watched roll down his spine, she boldly nipped at the tip of his finger.

He grinned at her and pulled his finger from her mouth and drew it into his own. Sakura swallowed her bite, hoping to soon replace that sweet taste of berry and chocolate with something else.

“You’re such a good girl,” he said after he’d sucked any trace of her or the strawberry from his finger.

A warm and pleasant hum escaped her. She blinked at him, a smile pulling her cheeks up into apples.

“You like when I call you a good girl, don’t you?” he asked.

She nodded eagerly, achingly desperately for more of him, not caring that she was too dignified to be spoken to like that.

“See?” he teased. “I already know what you like. I know the things you don’t even know you like yet.”

Drawn up toward those startling blood-red eyes of his, she leaned up on her toes. “What things?” she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“There you are!”

Sakura dropped back down to her heels and Madara glanced over his shoulder at the man approaching them. She recognized him as Madara’s brother, Izuna.

“Fugaku is waiting for you in the lounge,” Izuna said to Madara, sparing no glance toward Sakura, though he was also seduced into snatching a pastry from the table behind her. “He seems pissed.”

“Do you know why?” Madara asked him.

Izuna shrugged as he bit into his cream-filled pastry. Sakura could sense Madara’s irritation with him, and she cleared her throat. It was only then that Izuna glanced at her, and he seemed surprised by the sight of her.

“It looks like most of your guests are leaving,” she said to Madara, gesturing at the dwindling crowd in the foyer. “If you’ll excuse me, I have I somewhere I need to be.”

“Who was that?” Sakura heard Izuna ask as she began to walk back into the foyer. “She looks familiar.”

“That was Dr. Sakura Haruno,” Madara answered, but she couldn’t hear what he said next as she parsed her way through what few people still loitered around and headed up the staircase.

No one questioned her as she walked up the grand staircase, even though she was the only guest to do so. She could feel people watch her as she ascended the steps, but she didn’t turn to look at them.

Her throat felt dry, and she gripped the gilded railing with a vice grip, trying not to sway in her heels. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. Madara Uchiha was too much for her. She should find Neji and try to start over.

Once she reached the top of the stairs, she released a sigh and leaned her hip against the balcony. Madara’s study was close, but now she wasn’t so sure what she wanted.

“Sakura?”

She winced. Sasuke palmed her shoulder and turned her so he could get a proper look at her face. “You’re not supposed to be up here,” he said admonishingly. “And what was that back there with Neji? He said you’ve been acting funny tonight.”

Irritated, she smacked his arm away. “Don’t touch me, Sasuke,” she said. How many times had she fantasized about his hands being on her? Why did it annoy her so much now?

He raised his palms defensively, a scowl pushing his features toward the center of his face. “Fine,” he said. A beat of silence stretched between them. He sized her up with his gaze, and his comment about her suit rang in her ears. “You’re a lot different than I remember,” he finally said, though it seemed like he was musing aloud.

“Yeah, well, you’re exactly the same,” she muttered, giving him a dry look before she fled down the hall toward Madara’s study.

“Where the hell are you going?” he called after her, but she gave him no mind.

///

Madara’s study was exactly as they’d left it. Sakura locked the door behind her, satisfied with the loud click of the brass lock. Sasuke wouldn’t follow her in here, and now she knew he couldn’t. Only Madara would find her in here, so she was safe from other guests or vigilant security.

But she was well aware of the new danger she was in now – one that thrilled and terrified her.

For some extra courage, she made her way around Madara’s desk and found the half empty bottle of bourbon there. Certain that he wouldn’t mind, she took a generous swig of it.

With nothing to do but wait, she crossed her ankles on his desk and reclined back in his chair. She wondered what Sasuke’s father was angry about. It was hard to imagine someone berating Madara for anything. As Sasuke had said, he was a man who always gets what he wants. What did their conversation sound like? She would have given anything to hear it.

Ordinarily, Sakura would have made it a top priority to eavesdrop. Though she wasn’t quite as bad as her best friend Ino, Sakura certainly had a penchant for juicy gossip.

Today, though, Sakura was obedient if a little nervous. Her sexual experiences, while not completely prudish, were limited. A handful of short-term boyfriends, a casual fling here or there. Nothing spectacular, nothing truly passionate. She didn’t know that Madara was capable of giving her exactly what she sought. She wasn’t even herself sure of what that was.

But what she did know was that he had aroused her in a way she had never been before. The way his hands felt on her, the way his voice melted around her, the gentle but firm commands he gave – it whipped the tendrils of lust and passion that had fallen limp inside her up into a froth.

She knew that he would be able to make her cum – a feat not many of her partners could manage. And maybe he was right. Maybe he could show her things she didn’t even know she liked.

Growing warm at the thought of it, she slipped her blazer from her shoulders and draped it over the back of Madara’s chair. Her blouse was sticking to her skin, so she began to unbutton in, fanning the fabric against her heated skin. She could imagine Madara’s fingers working the buttons, his knuckles grazing against her belly, his spellbinding eyes locked onto hers.  
Her bra came next, and she sighed with relief when its elastic loosed around her. She tossed it into the chair-couch on the other side of the desk and gave her breasts a squeeze, trying to remember exactly how Madara’s hands had felt cupping her over her bra and what those calloused fingers might feel like against her bare skin.

Before she turned her attention to her pants, she gripped the bottle of bourbon by the neck and chugged and unladylike amount. She would need all the courage she could get.

The zipper of her pants became a puzzle to her; she fumbled and blinked until it slid down and she was able to slip her hips into freedom. She let the pants fall the floor beneath the chair and sank down into the plush cushion. Her skin stuck to supple leather, and the wriggled against it, feeling drunk and content and a little aroused.

Did Madara realize what feelings he had awakened in her? He must have; she could tell that he had done it on purpose. And how many other women had he seduced like this, she wondered. It must have been a good number. He knew what he was doing to her.

This should have been off-putting, but Sakura found herself comforted instead. At least he would know what he was doing.

Her fingers slipped beneath the band of her panties, a sensible pair of white cotton dotted with tiny strawberries. Indulgent where she could be. She was wet, almost alarmingly so. Her clit was already throbbing and she imagined Madara’s mouth on it, teasing and sucking. Swirling her fingers around her engorged clit, she closed her eyes, sunk her teeth into her lower lip, and let out a slow moan.

A loud click snapped her out of her daze of pleasure. Her heart jumped into her throat as she watched the lock slide and the door swing open.

Madara stepped into his office and shut the door behind him. She didn’t know what she was expecting of him, but it wasn’t the angry scowl on his face.

Afraid that she had done something incredibly wrong, she slipped her hand out of her panties and stood up. Madara met her gaze and his expression melted. He took a step toward her then paused, his expression pained and angry again.

Sakura stood with wide eyes, uncertain, mostly naked. She wasn’t sure what to do or what to say. She had followed his instructions.

“You aren’t naked,” he said, but unlike his expressions he sounded soft and tender.

“I was getting there,” she explained, her voice trembling. She hated how nervous she was. She hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and began to pull them down.

Before she could reveal herself, Madara crossed the room and took her wrists in his hands. He used his leverage with her arms to lift her onto the desk.

“What’s this?” he asked, lifting her hand to his face. Her face burned red with mortification – her arousal coated her fingers entirely, glistening in the dim glow of the shaded lamps.

Shame made her turn her cheek to him, her eyes cast toward the floor. He chuckled; she nearly drowned in the sound of it. Then his mouth closed around one digit. Arousal shot through Sakura’s body like an arrow, lighting up anything that had been pacified by the sight of his scowl. His tongue laved over her, and then he gave a gentle suck.

“I got started without you,” she said with confidence she didn’t feel.

His hands began to wandering, palming her arms and shoulders, and trailing across her chest and her waist, brushing her breasts with infuriating softness, touches so light Sakura wasn’t sure she was being touched at all. Goosebumps erupted over her entire body, and Madara seemed fascinated by the reaction, his gaze delighted and curious as it devoured what he was doing to her.

It seemed impossible that these gentlest of touches turned her on far more than her own fingers on her clit had. Even the way his palm scraped over her shoulder sent pangs of arousal cresting in her gut.

“Oh, Sakura, darling,” he murmured, moving between her knees, spreading them apart. “We are going to be something.”

She hated that she didn’t know what he meant by that, but she lost the ability to care when he claimed her lips in a fiery kiss. His touches became rough; Sakura clung desperately to his neck, trying to keep up. Fire licked her skin and color was exploding behind her eyes. Alcohol had made her dizzy, but the air was already warm and Sakura felt hot and sticky and hanging on for dear life.

“You polished off quite a bit of this bourbon, didn’t you?” he asked a little breathlessly, pulling away from her. She struggled to remain upright without his body to hold her, but he deftly scooped her against his side and carried her to the chair-couch. “This was a forty thousand dollar bottle of bourbon, you know.”

The number shocked her, though she was sure her drunken features did not show it. She felt a stab of guilt, but ultimately it did not matter. That money meant nothing to him.

“Deduct it from what you owe me,” she slurred.

He settled down beside her, tossing his arm over her side of the chair, beckoning her back to his chest. She obliged, sucked in by his gravity. The allure of his broad chest was too great, and the alcohol made her head feel heavy.

“I’ll make sure you have the funding you need for your research, Dr. Haruno,” he said, allowing her to settle into the crook of his arm. “It would be a shame for you to have wasted your time here tonight.”

“I don’t think I’ve wasted it at all,” she murmured with a pleasant hum. It felt good to relax against him like this, though she wondered if he had turned down the heat because of how drunk she was. She didn’t want to leave here tonight without fucking him.

“No?” he asked. “Even if I don’t give you the money?”

She pouted, though even in her inebriation she realized he was teasing her. “Well, if you’re not going to give me the money you could at least make me cum.”

Madara’s expressions always seemed like works of art. She could tell that his public appearances were carefully controlled, but tonight in this study with her, he was something wilder. His eyes narrowed to pinpoints. His lips curled into a smirk. She wanted badly to run her thumb over his proud brow, to feel his shadowed jaw against her palm. There was a feral gleam in his eye, and she had been the one to put it there.

“Oh, I plan to do both, Dr. Haruno,” he whispered to her. She leaned back against his arm to get a better look at his face. Her body quivered in his hold, but he seemed reserved.

He sighed and tilted his head back against the chair. “Sakura, baby, I found myself in a really tough spot tonight because of you,” he said.

“Because of me?”

His eyes pierced her when they glanced down to look at her. “Yes,” he answered. “See, my family does not approve of your research.”

Sakura furrowed her brow. “Why not?”

“I’m sure you’ve realized by now that it won’t paint the Uchiha family in the most flattering light,” he explained. “You know, incest and disease and all that.”

“Oh.”

Madara’s fingers smoothed up and down her arm, petting her until she had sidled up against him again. It seemed unfair that she was naked and he was still fully clothed.

“Does this mean I won’t get the money?” she asked,

“Of course not, baby,” he said. “You’re mine now, so that money is yours. It’ll just have to be under the table. I’ll set up a shell corporation. We’ll find a plausible donor for you to name to the papers.”

She frowned, shifting uncomfortably in his arms. “You’d betray your family like that?” she asked, glad he couldn’t see her face.

“The bigger betrayal would be to let them think their reputation is more important than their health,” he said. “I don’t want to take the chance. If there is some kind of genetic disease in the family (and I suspect there is), I’d like for you to do the research. I don’t want to see my family dying of something preventable.”

“That’s what Mr. Fugaku was angry about?”

His body stiffened beneath her. She curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt beneath his lapel.

“Should I be honest with you, Sakura?”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, please, always be honest with me.”

“Okay, then,” he agreed, his hand still softly stroking her arm. “Fugaku was angry because he knew of your plan to seduce money from someone here to fund your research. We have eyes and ears everywhere, you know.”

Sakura frowned. She felt vulnerable now in his arms and wasn’t sure what to do.

“We didn’t know you would choose Neji,” he continued, oblivious. “Fugaku wanted you to choose Sasuke, that way he could use that as sway to control the final results of the study.”

“I don’t like Sasuke,” she said instinctively.

“Well, you don’t like Neji either,” he quipped. “It could have gone either way. Except it didn’t because I interfered.”

“And that’s why Fugaku’s mad.”

“Precisely.”

Her frown deepened. “But if you give me the money, then wouldn’t you have the same sway?” she asked. “Fugaku wouldn’t expect you to betray the family.”

Laughter rumbled in his chest. “Everyone saw me feed you a strawberry tonight,” he explained. “I think they expect me to indulge you in whatever you want, and they are right. But I am also keen on that research, so it’s indulgent and practical at the same time.”

“So why do you have to hide the face that you’re giving me money?”

“For one, I don’t want your research to seem biased,” he answered. “Two, my family won’t like it and I don’t need to piss them all off right now.”

Sakura’s body went rigid. Madara’s strokes across her arm became even more tender in an effort to soften her again. “I didn’t mean to cause you so much trouble,” she said.

“Whatever trouble you cause will be well worth it, I think.”

“You sound quite smitten with me, Mr. Uchiha,” she said, nestling her cheek against his collar.

“Yes, you’re a very good girl,” he purred, his hand moving from her arm to her spine. His trailing fingertips sent flutters of desire down her back. “I think—”

“We could be something,” she finished for him. “What do you mean by that?”

Without warning, he pushed her down to the seat of the chair and moved on top of her, pinning her arms at her sides. “You want to please me, don’t you?” he asked, using his knees to hold her arms in place so he could gather her hair in his fist. He turned her face to the side, pressing her cheek down into the leather.

“Yes,” she said instinctively, feeling heat begin to spread between her legs. Why did his roughness affect her like this?

“Good,” he said, and then yanked her panties down. He hovered over her long enough to pull them completely from her legs and then grabbed onto her hips and flipped her over onto her stomach. “Now I’m going to show you why you belong to me and what it will mean for us to be something.”

He pulled her up against him, her naked body sensitive to the rough fabric of his pants and blazer. Her nipples hardened into stiff peaks and a frustrated and pleasured sigh escaped her. One of his hands held waist, keeping her flush against him, practically in his lap. The other reached between her legs and brushed across her slick and throbbing clit.

“You got started without me,” he lamented. “I don’t like that, but I’m not going to punish you for that today. Instead I’m going to make you cum hard enough to register on the Richter scale. You will go home and have illicit dreams about me, and come back here tomorrow when you’ve finished up all your appointments. Then I will punish you.”

Sakura’s brain tripped over every word he said. Between the alcohol, the heat, and the glorious sensation of his fingers against the most sensitive part of her, Sakura could barely manage to hold her head up.

In fact, it felt so heavy that she tipped it back and let it fall against Madara’s shoulder.

“Understood?” he murmured against her cheek.

“Yes,” she said.

“Good girl.”

She felt him move away from her, his body ripped away from her gravity. With his heat gone she felt a chilly wave sweep across her body. His hands found her hips again, and pulled her until she was up on all fours, her face pressed into the back of the chair.

A puff of air fanned across her clit. She gasped and felt her muscles contract. “So beautiful,” he said, spreading her ass apart with his thumbs.

With less alcohol in her system she might have felt some shame in the position. She had never done such a thing before, and the thought ordinarily had disgusted her.

But when Madara’s mouth pressed against her clit, all fucks fled from her mind. She cried out, lobbed by the hot, wet, swirling sensation of his tongue on her. She arched her back, throwing herself back into his face. Madara hummed with approval, sending a sharp current of desire to every nerve in her body.

“Madara,” she moaned, choking on his name.

His hands roamed her body, sliding up and down her thighs, palming the curve of her ass. Her skin was ignited by his touch. Waves of pleasure lapped at her, whirled into a frenzy by Madara’s skilled tongue. She never considered that he might have been right about her shrieking. She’d been silent with most of her partners thus far.

But what could only be defined as a shriek tore from her throat as Madara plunged his tongue inside her, sucking, laving, and teasing her with increasing speed.

When an amused chuckle rumbled through his mouth and directly into her pulsing nerves, Sakura began to wonder if she had perhaps lost a bit too much control. She could feel the coiling spring of her orgasm tightening and it wasn’t happening fast enough.

She reached behind her and dug her fingers into his scalp, pushing his face harder into herself. She could feel his ragged gasps for breath against her but she didn’t care. Even when he growled in protest she didn’t loosen her grip. His fingers curled tightly around her thighs, leaving purple bruises on the pale skin there. She wanted to cry out in pain, but another lash of his tongue sent her over the edge.

Pleasure whipped hard around her body; she was grounded only by Madara’s roughened hands on her skin. He held her in place as her hips bucked wildly, his head long released from her desperate grasp.

When her orgasm had subsided, she sank down into the cushion, her breath labored.

“We’ve got some work to do,” he said and then spanked her hard.

She yelped and glared at him over her shoulder. “What was that for?” she demanded, still breathless and glowing. He paused to admire her for a moment, his eyes roving her in a delighted way. She could see her slickness on his face and the straining erection in his pants.

“You came too soon,” he said. “Now I’m going to have to start over.”

“Start over?” she asked, adjusting herself into a sitting position. Madara crouched down in front of her and spread her knees apart.

“Yes, start over,” he repeated. “I know you can come harder than that. I’ll just have to tie you down so you can’t move.”

Sakura gulped.

“You want to please me, don’t you?” he asked.

She nodded, finding herself desperate to please him against all of her better judgment.

He grinned up at her predatorily. From his place between her legs, he gently strummed his finger along her clit. “I know you do,” he murmured and then blew softly on her sex. Sakura shivered. “Do you want me to tie you down?”

In the back of her mind, a voice was shouting something at her. She wasn’t exactly sure what it was shouting, but she found herself distracted by it. While she wanted very much to nod and let this man tie her up and make her cum, she knew she would be tacitly agreeing to something much more.

And she just couldn’t do that in her inebriated state.

“No,” she said, closing her knees around his head and thumping his forehead.

Madara, a man who usually exuded confidence and composure reeled back with a look of shock. He fell back onto the palms of his hands and let out a soft grunt.

“What kind of pervert are you?” she demanded. “Is this how you always talk to women?”

He blinked at her and then shook his head. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit to being hurt by the look of disappointment that flittered across his face. She did, for some stupid reason, really want to please him.

“You can’t control yourself, so I think tying you down would—”

“I refuse to be tied down, Mr. Uchiha,” she seethed. “I am a respectable woman.”

Calmly, she stood up and found her clothes with as much dignity as she could muster after having his tongue in her ass. He stood and watched her, his gaze sharp but not exactly unkind.

“You are a respectable woman,” he agreed. “Forgive me if it came across that I don’t think of you as such.”

Sakura held her clothes against her naked body, unsure of what to say.

“Let me take you to get cleaned up,” he offered. “You’ll need someone to take you home.”

She could find no reason to protest to this; she definitely needed cleaning before she could put her nice suit back on. So when Madara crossed the room and pulled a smoking jacket out of the wardrobe, she allowed him to draw it around her shoulders. She relinquished her clothes to him and began to walk toward the door as he guided her by the small of her back.

“I’ll get this cleaned up and returned to you,” he said, tossing the ball of clothes back to the chair.

That voice in her head was shouting again, but before she could properly hear it she was pushed out into the hall. She had forgotten how large the Uchiha Manor was and as he steered them down the hall she realized that she had no idea how to get back to the foyer.

“Mr. Uchiha—”

“Sakura, there you are,” said a voice behind them. Sakura never thought that the sound of Sasuke’s voice would make her sigh with relief. “What the hell?” he demanded when both she and Madara turned to face him. His gaze was scathing as it traced the state of Sakura’s undress.

“Sasuke, hey, champ,” Madara said, beaming at his nephew. “What are you up to these days? Still quarterback of the football team?”

“I’m thirty-one, you prick,” Sasuke spat, and Sakura couldn’t agree more. Madara was a prick.

“Time flies so quickly,” Madara amused, his arm coming up to settle around Sakura’s shoulders. He glanced down at her face, a smile tugging at his lips.

Put off by his strange behavior and her growing sobriety, Sakura pushed his arm away from her and flocked to Sasuke’s side. He wasn’t exactly safe, but he couldn’t be worse than Madara.

“Where are your clothes?” Sasuke demanded.

“I was just taking her to get cleaned up,” Madara explained, but Sakura had turned Sasuke away, gripping hi tightly by the elbow. His eyes were concerned when they came up to meet hers.

“I need to find Tsunade,” she said.

Sasuke nodded, his hand coming to rest on a much more appropriate place on her back. He turned to scowl at Madara over his shoulder.

“She’s out front,” he said. “Let’s go find you some clothes.”

He began to steer her down the hall, and then Sakura could see the grand staircase ahead and sighed with relief. She hadn’t been too far. 

As they walked to the stairs, Sakura turned to look back at Madara. He was watching her, his mouth drawn into… a pout. He slid his hands into his pockets, his red gaze absolutely unnerving on her. 

She could still feel it on her as she descended the stairs under Sasuke’s arm.

///

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this was supposed to be a oneshot, but it kind of got away from me. It’s going to be a four or five parter, I think but it’s really jus an excuse to practice writing smut. The biggest criticism I get from publishers regarding romance novels is that my smut needs work.
> 
> So please give what constructive criticism you can, and also let me know why kinds of smutty scenes/fics you want to see bc I’m going to hunker down into steamy smut mode and just practice that for a while.


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